


Don't Poke at It

by Traxits



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7422628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traxits/pseuds/Traxits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But Reeve always poked.  He couldn't help but poke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Poke at It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EvilRobotCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilRobotCat/gifts).



> Originally posted [here](http://traxits.tumblr.com/post/146390429587/two-requests-hmmm-3-okay-heres-the-first) on my Tumblr.

Don’t poke at it.

Those had been the words Vincent chose to breathe over Reeve’s lips the first time they kissed. Reeve had pretended not to hear. He had kissed Vincent anyway, hard and starving for the distraction. They’d both known that Reeve had heard him.

And Reeve couldn’t help but poke. He always poked.

Not so much on purpose, but he had an inquisitive mind. He wanted to know. And Chaos was too much a part of Vincent for Reeve to ignore. He was too large of a variable. Too influential of a piece. Reeve always learned what pieces lay where on the board.

It had been a skill he’d perfected in Shinra. It was a skill that he used to this day, as he built an organization more than capable of taking Shinra head on.

And who checked him these days? His private funder did, but Reeve could only assume that the man approved so long as the checks kept coming. Did he approve of what Reeve was doing, or did he approve of what Reeve was becoming? Did it matter?

Then he got his opportunity. It was one of the few times Vincent had fallen truly and deeply asleep in Reeve’s office, Reeve poked.

It was a distraction, same as everything else he did with Vincent was. He didn’t poke hard. He simply… relaxed. Closed his eyes. Focused on his breathing and on those meditation skills he hadn’t had the time or energy to use since Meteorfall. It was surprisingly easy for something he hadn’t done in so long.

He hadn’t been expecting the almost quick brush of something against the edges of his awareness. Blistering cold and so hot it froze him, and something reached for him–

His eyes snapped open, his lips parting on a gasp he didn’t dare take. He glanced over at Vincent, still quiet. Still asleep.

He swallowed back the gasp, bit his bottom lip, and this time, when he closed his eyes, he was ready. He was prepared for it.

Only… it didn’t come. He opened his eyes again, brow furrowing. Before he could twist around to look back at Vincent again, there was a quiet rustle. Reeve’s breath caught in his throat as he looked up into those glowing, golden eyes.

“One order, little cat,” Chaos purred, leaning in closer across the desk, and Reeve didn’t dare move. "He gave you one order, and yet you poked anyway.“

“We haven’t had a chance to talk yet,” Reeve replied smoothly, raising an eyebrow. He leaned forward, entering Chaos’s space the same way the creature– being? Man, no… demon?– had entered his own. He folded his hands on the desk in front him as Chaos tilted his head, watching.

Watching with that detached but intent expression that Vincent always had. How much of them bled over into each other’s mannerisms? Did they talk?

“Talk?” Chaos reached out, one finger brushing against an errant lock of Reeve’s hair. "Is that what you summoned me for, Builder?“

”‘Builder’?“

Something like a smile touched Chaos’s mouth for a second, and then it was gone in the same heartbeat. His fingers slid down the side of Reeve’s face, the nails too sharp for comfort but he was careful. He didn’t break the skin as far as Reeve could feel.

"Is that why you poke at us so? The weight of that burden is too much for you to bear by yourself?”

“What?” Reeve was, to his complete horror, beginning to flush at the implication. But he’d spent too long around Turks, too long around Reno, to give ground here. If he drew back, he’d never retake this space. "It isn’t my ‘burden’ that I wanted to speak to you of. I simply–“

He swallowed, still holding Chaos’s gaze. Golden and shimmering and far warmer than Reeve had suspected it might be from the few reports he’d received on it.

"I wanted to be certain that you were… aware of me.”

Chaos raised an eyebrow, tilting his head down to peer up at Reeve. Reeve’s face flushed a little more darkly.

“Of that I’m here. For you and Vincent both. If you’re separate enough to need that.”

Chaos watched him for a very long moment, so still that Reeve caught his own breath hitching in an attempt to be quiet enough to hear Chaos’s. It didn’t work. But Reeve didn’t look away, didn’t pull back. They simply stayed right there, inches from each other, Chaos’s too sharp nails against Reeve’s jaw.

Then Chaos inclined his head, and he pulled away. The air was suddenly cold around Reeve. He hadn’t realized he’d been so warm.

“Don’t poke again,” Chaos murmured.

Reeve smiled, the motion small and wry, as he spread his hands. "I poke,“ he replied. "I’ll always poke.”

The smile that touched Chaos’s mouth should have been frightening. Possibly, had Reeve not cut his teeth and honed his skills in Shinra, it would have been. As it stood, it was too much like the smiles of those Reeve had counted among his friends and allies.

“Then don’t be surprised if I poke back.”


End file.
